


Flavour

by letterando



Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Fluff, International Fanworks Day 2015, M/M, Valentine's Day, just a bit though it's short after all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 21:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3356510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letterando/pseuds/letterando
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, one more time. The most popular guy at your school just handed it to you after the last bell.”<br/>He nods while he keeps extracting handful after handful of sweets.<br/>“And he told you you could have it because he’d got another bag anyway.”<br/>He nods again.<br/>“And he was bright red when he said that and he scurried away before you could return it.”<br/>He nods again. He's changed his mind. Talking doesn't seem to be helping much with this awkward atmosphere after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flavour

**Author's Note:**

> I'm frustrated because my Larry fic is coming along at snail's pace and I wanted to post somethingalreadydamnit and I saw the announcement about the International Fanworks Day, so here I am at the usual time for us fanfic writers. 1am. The only rule was to write a drabble. 100 words. I mean... 100.... is that even possible...?  
> Anyway.
> 
> Based on chapter 27 of the manga Horimiya (Hori-san to Miyamura-kun) by Hero (author) and Hagiwara Daisuke (artist).

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He has known Harry for months now and he’s never seen his classy friend in such a thunderous mood. He’s comical actually, with his forehead full of tiny wrinkles of contempt, as he towers over him thanks to the few steps which distance them.

“Pleeeeeeeeease!” he wails without a trace of composure.

Harry looks at him like he’s one of those Californian salamanders in the trivia section of his textbook, the kind which researchers have trouble categorize, before his pale eyes settle on the bag he’s carrying.

Promptly, he lifts it up to his chin and tries that weird thing the girls of his school do when they want to appear even cuter in front of the guys (it seems to work for them).

“Please Harry, you’re my best friend...”

Miraculously, it works. (Thanks, girls!)

A ‘tch’ sound still escapes from Harry’s mouth as he turns around muttering that he is his only friend, but he doesn’t protest further when he climbs the last steps, rebuting that he has frien _ds_ , Danny never pushed him around or called him nerd.

Abruptly, Harry turns around by the entrance to his room and stands with his legs apart, crossing his slim arms and scowling darkly at him. The elegant uniform of his school makes him look like an aristocrat like usual.

“The only one. Best _and_ only.” He’s quick to fix. Harry scans him for the last time, then nods minutely as he slips quietly in his room.

Whew.

From what he’s learned about Harry, it seems that, even though his family is covered in money, he owns very few things he has chosen for himself. He has stolen a glimpse of stuffed animals in the back of a drawer, once. They looked incredibly worn out, but somehow still well kept.

He doesn’t know what it is about himself which is holding Harry’s interest, yet he’s glad to have somebody who shares his guilty pleasure. Advanced chemistry is double the fun when you do the exercises with someone else who understands them.

Still, he’s waiting for the moment Harry will declare that their friendship is history, that he’s grown bored and that he can go back to his dull, plebean playground.

How could he have imagined that the breaking point would have been a bag full of flavoured chocolate, though?

He walks in the room with an air of finality, with his proverbial tail between his legs, slowly savoring the soft pattern of the carpets under his socks.

To his surprise, Harry has already moved the pillows from his bed to the floor. He’s still considerate even seconds before the end of their friendship. After all, Harry is the kindest guy he knows, underneath his uptown atmosphere.

He sits down and immediately starts taking out item after item from the bag, postponing the inevitable. The silence thickens awkwardly by the second. " _Thank goodness_ " he thinks when Harry starts to speak.

“So, one more time. The most popular guy at your school just... handed it to you after the last bell.”

He nods as he keeps extracting handful after handful of sweets.

“And he told you you could have it because he’d got another bag anyway.”

He nods again.

“And he was bright red when he said that and he scurried away before you could return it.”

He nods again. Actually, he's changed his mind. Talking doesn't seem to be helping much with this awkward atmosphere, after all.

Once he’s done there’s a pile of very expensive-looking chocolate bars and sweets between them and his palms are sweating so badly he rubs them against his raggedy sweatpants.

Unconsciously, Harry saves him again by grabbing a random candy.

“Mango and papaya? What the _hell_?” he mutters under his breath as he inspects the scrunched foil like a scientist would inspect his most fascinating yet weird specimen.

He laughs in relief and grabs a bar, too.

They instantly decide to go for a tiny bite of each one, but after a while he stops reading whatever everything is flavored at and chuckles at Harry’s comments about the stupidity or oddity of the labels.

 

* * *

 

 

He doesn’t know how much time has passed but Harry’s fervently commenting about the colorants' classification of a chocolate bar’s label when he tears a candy one-handedly and without looking. He pops it in his mouth, and- E _WWWWW!_

As much as he’s relieved to hear Harry’s laughter  (because it’s a wondrous occasion and because it means the crisis is officially averted this time), he can’t help the grimace of disgust at... what the hell is in his mouth.

“W-What's that? What flavour is it?” asks Harry frantically, clearly having the time of his life. Good for him.

“What 'flavour'!? Eeh, clay!?” he says, pushing the candy at the side of his mouth. Oh god, that's even _worse_.

Harry gives up searching for the confection in the small mountain of paper and foil, looks at him for a few seconds before he leans forward, grinning madly, and ruffles his hair. Harry says he likes it because it’s a bird’s nest, and yet sometimes he thinks it’s because Harry's butler always reprimands him when he disrupts his own perfectly-styled hair, even by accident.

Harry continues to chuckle, now balancing himself on all fours so as not to squash the pile of sweets, repeating “clay”  and “dumb” over and over and his slim fingers are cold like usual but they don't feel unpleasant at all.

“Do you want some water to go with the clay?” inquires Harry poorly trying to smother his laughter while he’s already standing up.

He mumbles vaguely, letting the candy rest on his tongue, trying not to move it too much.

Suddenly, Harry kneels beside him and before he can turn completely his vision is filled with Harry’s face. His eyes look completely different this up close. In addition to 'very light blue' there’s crystal, silver and pearl. From his distance he can even see the tiny shadows Harry's eyelashes leave on his cheeks. It's fascinating.

As Harry stands up again, a thin trail of saliva hangs from his bottom lip.

Before he can raise his hand to touch it he feels a twin one hanging from his own bottom lip.

 

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End file.
